His Merit and Her Devotion
by IndigoGrapefruit
Summary: AU. Written for HGAFFC contest #2. A cunning, young, brilliant sorceress she is. However, it is not her title that defines her, but what she created with her magic. Though he’s her masterpiece, her devotion to him will be her ultimate downfall.


**Indigo's Corner  
A repost. This is actually the full version which I had to cut down to fit the 8000 words criteria for the story. I went back and edited some errors after realizing how horrible it actually was when I read it over. **

**Disclaimer  
All that is not mine is disclaimed.**

* * *

**His Merit And Her Devotion**

Every spell has a counterpart.

It's the first rule of magic, and the most important. Believe it or not, sorcery has its rules too. It's not like one can go and become rich overnight just because one knows magic. I wish. If one can become rich with magic, one can also become poor. It's as simple as that. The reason for this rule is quite simple as well. If every spell is irrevocable then what would the earth come to? If one is to be spiked with a hate potion and there's no love potion to counter it, then what would one become?

A monster, that's what.

Then, naturally, the sorcerers and sorceresses will have to take all the blame.

Sadly, many have learned this the hard way. Many died in the wars against other magical beings. The greatest wizards in the world have met their downfall because they failed to recognize this error. It's sad to know how one's life ended just because they created an amazing spell but did not make the counterpart to it.

Oh, and just so you know, I, Hotaru Imai, do not plan on being one of them.

* * *

"I do not understand why you insist that you have to sit by and stare out of the window every day at exactly four fifteen in the afternoon," I growl to the figure by the window with the maximum vehemence in my voice that I allow. "Why can't you just do something productive for once, like help Nonoko and I in the lab?!"

Hands supporting his chin, the boy remained silent and keeps staring out the window defiantly. His chest heaves in and out in an even pace. Even though I yelled at him, he stays calm and collected, as always. He grunts once and never pays any more attention.

He's ignoring me; I know it!

"Why do you always have to be like this?" I grit through my teeth. "Always."

His red eyes divert from the window to me and he snaps, "you're not my mom, so shut the hell up. What I do is no business of yours."

I open my mouth, but close it again. I figure that if he's going to be like this to me, then I have no reason to dwell on this any longer. I have more important things I could be doing.

Turning my back on him, I swiftly leave the boy to his delusions.

He's so like me. He's so like me that he pisses me off to no end. It's not just in looks either – the same rebellious eyes despite his being crimson and mine violet. He's like me in every aspect – morality, intelligence, cunningness _and _looks. Especially that superior, conceiting attitude; let's not even go there. Yet, I still don't understand him. I've tried to look at life from his eyes from every aspect – heck, I _am _doing just that – but he's an enigma.

Even though he's my twin.

I approach the largest and utmost security-tight room of the house – my lab. At light fast speed, I type in my password and place my hand on the hand scanner. The machine processes the data and a robotic voice speaks, "valid access. Welcome, Hotaru Imai." The doors to my lab all slide open, one by one.

Grabbing my coat and safety goggles from the hanger, I put them on rapidly and walk into my lab, where many of my apprentice sorcerers and sorceresses are working on their own projects: spells, potions or counterpart spells and potions. I spot Nonoko to my left, stirring a cauldron while looking in her book. As I walk to her, she reaches up to the cupboard and grabs two herbs, quickly dumping them in.

She just begins to stir her new mixture, which has a brilliant colour of topaz, when I approach her, taking care to make sure that she doesn't know that I'm there. It's never a good thing to interrupt the making of a potion because some potions have to be stirred a certain way to get the result. Distractions can result in the loss of count, or an accidental mistake, which will waste ingredients and the wasting of ingredients is not acceptable in my lab.

Wiping the sweat off of her forehead, Nonoko puts out the fire and pours the topaz liquid into a bottle, where the darker shades of the liquid swirl not unlike the ones on caramel candy. Closing the jar off with the lid and staring at it with satisfaction, Nonoko grins.

I applaud her and say, "well done. You're not my number one apprentice for nothing, Ogasawara."

She yelps, jumping a little and almost losing grip on her potion. When she regains her grip, Nonoko looked up and bows almost immediately. "Master Imai. What brings you here?"

"Need I a reason to visit my own lab?"

Giving a little "heh" and scratching her head sheepishly, Nonoko replies, "no! I wasn't implying that at all! It's just – well, you scared me a bit."

My lips curl up into a faint smile. Nonoko blinks thrice; she must think it's the lighting. That's not actually the case, however, as I am quite amused by apprentice at the moment. Nonoko is one of the shy, fluttery ones. Typically, they tick me off a considerable amount, but she has her moments, which never fail to bring a smile to my heart, if not my lips.

"So what's this lovely mixture that you just made?" I ask, eyeing the jar of caramel-like substance that she is holding in her hand as if it's the most important thing to her.

"Oh, this!" she exclaims, smiling proudly. "Well, it's something I've been trying to come up with for a long time now! Tobita came by the other day and asked me to make a counterpart for his potion. You know, the one that freezes and preserves internal organs? This one melts the ice. The only thing is, if you drink it straight down, it'll probably be instant death for you." She looked around. "I should go and find a 'warning, corrosive, do not touch/drink' label."

"Yes, you go and do that," I tell her as she stalks toward the labeling table.

For the next hour or so, I go around checking every apprentice's status and what they're up to, occasionally helping the one or two that's completely out of it and don't have a single clue what they're doing and getting them back on task. The stupidity of some of my apprentices never cease to amaze or irritate me, like that one case where an inexperienced sorceress named Sumire Shouda drank something and cackled with evil laughter for a whole hour. I entrust Nonoko with looking after my apprentices as I take off my coat and goggles, hanging them on the hanger. I'm exhausted as I exit my lab.

I decide to go to his room to check on my twin and see if Natsume's still staring out the window. I look at the clock – 7:09. Huh. So it's been more than an hour after all. He better not still be there. Sure enough, as I turn the doorway, I see the window open and a gusty wind blowing from the outside in. Where Natsume had been sitting earlier, there is now an empty chair. The room is chilly. I shudder as I shut the window and draw the curtains.

Now I have to go find him.

I pull out my mobile and work my thumb on the buttons quickly, thinking about how annoying it is that the phone can barely keep up with my speed. Pretty soon, the screen is showing a map of the downtown, roads and buildings that are labeled and everything. A red dot is flashing on and off in the centre. It is moving northward along Academy Street.

I head off to the garage to get my fastest scooter, but find that it has a flat tire. Grumbling, I resort to my spare, a giraffe shaped scooter that I made when I was ten. Great. I just love humiliating myself in public.

Oh the things I do for that guy.

I get on my scooter and take off, setting it at full speed. The crisp autumn wind blows in my face and I feel thankful that I have short hair. Gripping the handle tighter, I turn on Academy Street and slow myself down, now having to share the road with other, bigger vehicles.

The light ahead turns red just as I approach it, making me curse at it mentally. I stop the scooter and wait for the horizontal line of vehicles to stop moving. Right hand gripping the handle, I pull out my phone in the left.

The dot isn't moving, which is convenient for me since I don't have to chase him down, not like he could outrun me when I'm on this thing anyway. Zooming in, however, I notice something very suspicious about it. The red dot is located at Umenomiya's, a bakery. Which is why it's so suspicious – you'll never find Natsume at a bakery; he doesn't even like sweets.

Before I can contemplate on the matter any further, however, the light switches green, forcing me to quickly stuff my phone inside my pocket and grip my left handle with my hand, speeding off again. I'll find out about the suspicion soon enough.

I park my bike outside of the bakery and lock it with a click of a button. I pull out my phone and hold it out in front of me. Yes, the tracker is in this building for sure. I glance inside quickly, but see no one except for a blond haired, blue eyed Caucasian male who was about 5'9. Narrowing my eyes, I go in.

The door jingles and I scrunch up my face in disgust. I never liked those bells they put on doors. Frankly, they just piss me off.

The first thing I do is go up to the counter, slam a hand down in front of him and straight out ask, "is there anyone in this building besides you?"

He looks at me as if I'm a weirdo. "Uh… No… Anna, the boss is out at the moment. I'll be taking whatever orders you have?" He ends the statement as a question because he is confused.

"Come here," I order.

He looks more confused than ever. "What?"

"You said you'd take whatever orders I have, so come here," I hiss, rolling my eyes at the stupidity of some people.

He slowly shifts his body and makes his way to me uncomfortably. He looks afraid of me. His thoughts are written all across his face. He thinks that I'm a psycho and that I'm going to assault him – something along those lines anyway. He stands a considerate distance from me, staring at me cautiously.

When it's apparent that he's not going to come here any time soon, I take two big strides and walk to him. Taking my phone out, I look at the location of the red dot, and back to him. I pocket my phone and reach for his instead.

"What the-"

He tries to run, thinking that I'm going to sexually harass him. I grab him by the hand and dig my nails into his flesh as hard as I can. He winces and tries to pry it off with his other hand, but I hold on tight, digging them in further. While he's being distracted, my free hand slips into his pocket and roams it, finding nothing. He tenses as he feels this and tries more drastically. I stick my hand in his other pocket, feeling a little rough lump. Aha! I pull it out, and sure enough, it was the tracker. I let go of him and he crashes into the table, knocking it over.

"What is going on here?!" a frantic voice screeches and we both avert our glance to the woman with pink hair that entered during our "moment". Her hands are shaking furious and she frowns at us with great disapproval.

"A-Anna!" the employee cries. Pointing to me, he accuses, "she tried to sexually harass me."

Anna looks at me suggestively and I ensure her, "I was not trying to sexually harass him. He took something of mine." I hold up the tracker, though she can barely see at her distance. "If anything, I believe I should be the one accusing him. Thievery is a crime." I glare at him, who is glaring back at me stubbornly.

"I swear I didn't, Anna. She just came in and ordered me to go to her. I thought that there was something wrong with her and stayed away. Then she came to me and started roaming her hands all over me!" He shudders. Pulling out his arm, he adds, "Plus, she made these really painful nail marks on my arm."

"You deserve them. You stole my tracker."

"I did not steal your tracker!"

"Yes you did."

"No I did not!"

"Then how'd it get inside of your pocket? Huh? I'd like to see you provide a legitimate explanation for that," I demand.

"How the hell would I know? For all I know, you probably just took a tiny stone and claimed it was a tracker!" bellows the blond.

I glare at him with dead distain. Pulling out my phone, I stick it up to his face and point at the red dot, then at the tracker in my hand. "_This_ is not a rock. _This_ is a tracker. Look at my phone and look at the device in my hand. This is not a freaking rock, you understand me?!"

"Then ask yourself this." He stares into my eyes defiantly. "Why would I go and intentionally steal a tracker? Why would I want to be tracked? You must be a psycho for sticking this thing on someone in the first place!"

"What did you just call me?"

"I'm pretty sure you heard me, lady."

"Okay!" Anna screams, interrupting both of us. Repeating the word in a softer tone, she tells us, "Okay, both of you. I'm done here. You two can go into the back room and sort this out. And don't you dare come out until you're done. My store, my rules."

* * *

So the two of us are now sitting uncomfortably in the back of Anna's little bakery, on both sides of a round table in the back room where the employers usually talk during their lunch break, or so I assume. My hands are prodding on my chin and one of his is underneath the table, out of sight, while the other is drumming on the face of it with his fingers. Anna is still mad at us, which means we remain under bakery arrest.

His eyes meet mine, entrapping both of us in a staring contest. However, soon my presence overwhelms him and he averts his glance downwards, mumbling something incoherent.

"Excuse me?"

His eyes snap up. "I-I said, don't look at me like that. It's like you're boring holes through me with that stare." He's timid enough when he says it, his lips trembling with nervousness.

My lips curl up nastily and I tilt my head up, looking downwards at him condescendingly with my hands crossed. So some kid thinks he can mess with me. Excuse me while I tear his impudence to pieces. I saw him raising an eyebrow at my pose.

I also see him cringe inwardly, even though he himself is probably not aware. Poor guy's so nervous around me that he'll probably piss his pants. I don't blame him though. In fact, I'll give credit to him to recognize a predator when he sees one.

"You're so easy," I sigh in a bored tone.

He may be weak, but I can tell that he's offended by my comment. He narrows his eyes at me and utters, "Pardon me? Did you just say easy? I'm offended; I am _not _easy."

"You are easy," I insist, "to read. Ironically, all people like you have this delusional thinking that you're complicated and unreadable. You're not. Especially you, my _darling_." My emphasis was seething. "You're an open book. I basically figured out your personality the first three seconds that I looked at you. You're a wimp. You're _scared_. You can't stand up to someone stronger than you to save your life – or to save any others' for that matter. You're like a sheep, running to whoever's got stronger influence." His face speckles with horror every time I tell him something about himself. "You're not very ambitious, always content with what you've got. A person like you will never get anywhere in life. I can easily manipulate your meager little brain and you wouldn't even know it." I pause, smiling smugly, admiring the look on his face. "Here's the funny thing though: you haven't even realized any of these things until I told you."

He gawks at me.

Dismissing his look with a wave of my hand, I yawn, "and I'll stop crushing your little man ego before you have none left. I think you should get the point now that I have neither the patience nor time to 'get to know each other better.'"

After a long and awkward pause, he coughs nervously and tries to change the subject. "I – er – I like your scooter. It's certainly… different from your personality."

I look at my nails in boredom. I don't like talking to people not of my own intelligence. Sadly there are many pathetic beings in this world called Alice, thus I act contemptuously to everyone. Not my fault. In a monotone, I drawl, "wouldn't you like to know?"

"You don't seem like the kind of person to go around on giraffe scooters."

A faint smile illuminates my lips, but I make sure he doesn't see. "I would say not. I made the silly thing when I was ten." Briefly recalling certain things that happened, my eyes become clouded. Yes, I was ten and I thought I knew the world.

"You thought?" inquires my companion, catching me off guard. I blink at him thrice before realizing and inwardly cursing myself for voicing out the one thought that I haven't meant to.

"It's none of your business."

"You made it mine as soon as you said it," he counters defensively. Then, softening up, he says in an assuring tone, "I don't really mean to be nosy or anything." I open my mouth to snap back but he was faster. "I'm just trying to help, really. I know you're a very cold person but I don't believe you're dangerous."

My eyes flash dangerously. "I'd like to hear that from you when I put you to your deathbed. It's all because of you that I'm stuck here in the first place."

"I didn't even do anything!" he cries. "Don't just antagonize me because I'm inferior to you! You're talking to me like you're the one suffering or something. Well you're not the victim for goodness sakes; I am! Hell if I knew there was a tracker on me! Hell if I know how it got there! FYI, if I haven't said this enough times already, I didn't put it on me, so whoever you put the tracker on was probably aware of it and stuck it on some random bypasser – me!"

"I'm done with you," I say with scorn.

I got up from the seat and storm out of the bakery, encountering Anna on the way.

She raises an eyebrow and inquires, "Have you two made up yet?"

"What do you think?" I hiss before I push open the glass door, jingling the disgusting bells and setting out into the late evening.

* * *

Stress and exhaustion crowd my mind as I put away my scooter in the garage and enter my house. Yuri, the maid, welcomes me home as I walk through the doorway. I have no energy to answer, so I nod. I collapse on the nearest chair and ask her to go bring me a coffee. I'm so out of it that I almost missed Natsume's shoes by the door.

Almost.

My stress level skyrockets as I grit my teeth and think about all the events that happened earlier today. Everything I do, it always comes back to him. Frustration overcomes me. Why does he have to disobey me over and over? Why can't he listen? Why does he never understand that it's for his own good? He never understands that I do everything for him, that he's probably the most important thing in my life. Why does he keep telling me that he hates me, that I'm ruining his life? I _gave _him his life, for god's sakes!

I drowsily take my black coffee from Yuri's hands. I drink it down in gulps, letting the bitter taste fill my mouth. Bitter – that's exactly how I'm feeling right now. I drink it all in one breath, panting heavily as I set the cup down on the class tea table. I get up as Yuri takes the empty cup and sets out to the kitchen to wash it.

I head upstairs in the direction of Natsume's room. He's locked it, probably knowing that I'll lash at him as soon as I come home. Well, he's right, and a locked door isn't enough to stop me. Casting a superhuman strength spell, I easily break the door right off its hinges.

He doesn't even flinch, but he does set something on the table and spin his chair around, clearly not wanting to talk to me.

"Where have you been?!" I nearly screech. "Do you have any idea how frantic I got looking for you?!"

"Out."

Seriously, out? I put up with hours of torture, of some blond Neanderthal accusing me of sexual harassment, of dealing with his rebellious attitude, of monotonously teaching my apprentices just to hear that one word escape from his mouth? I want to rip something. Can't have more appreciation for me? Is that too much to ask for?

"Out where?"

"Just out." A hint of annoyance is in his voice and his eyes flicker to the thing he laid on the table.

I walk over to the desk and snatch it up before he can protest. It's a picture, quite an artistic one too, I'll have to admit. The girl is dancing in Sakura blossoms, smiling ecstatically. She has huge eyes, golden-brown hair and is wearing a dress of flowers, which are growing straight from her skin. There are cherry blossoms growing in her hair, too. I recognize what she is immediately. A nymph. I also recognize the Sakura tree as the one outside Natsume's window. This is the reason why he stares out in a daze every afternoon.

"Who is she?"

Natsume snatches the picture away from me and put it in a drawer. "None of your business," he tells me in his coldest tone.

"If it's your business, it's mine too –"

"No it is not!" he growls at me. "It is none of your business what I do. _None._ Yet why is it that you still take it upon yourself to manage my life? You put a tracker on me. A tracker-" his eyes glare at me with absolute loathing "-implying if you don't keep tabs on me at all times, I'll go and do something crazy. Don't even deny it. You're wasting your words."

My stress level is rising again. I lash out, "It's for your own good Natsume! Why do you only ever see the bad side of me? All I ever want is for you to be safe from danger. So maybe I might have gone a bit too far with the tracker, but I had a reason, Natsume."

"No." He shakes his head rapidly. "No, you had no reason. Moreover, you have no right. What the hell do you think I am? Tell me. I'm your brother, not your son. Even if I am your son, you still have no right to treat me this way. I have no obligation to you. You're a manipulative freak. I'm sick of seeing your face every day! It makes me want to puke. You're living under this impression that everyone has to be like you and submit perfectly to your needs and wants and it's disgusting. You want to understand the difference between us? I know you're dying to. Alright, let me tell you this then, Hotaru. The difference between you and me is that I actually have a heart. I actually care for somebody enough to have one! But you, on the other hand - you never cared about anyone."

"I do care," I sigh. "If I don't care then I wouldn't be here right now."

"No," he replies, with a tone that clearly states that this conversation is over. "If you cared, you wouldn't be here right now."

He doesn't have to tell me to go for me to walk out the door.

* * *

I'm writing out the highlights of the next lesson I'll be teaching when I realize that I've been nibbling on my nail for the past ten minutes. Disgusting. I have nail polish on. Now that toxic chemical is in my body. What bothers me the most, though, is that nibbling on nails is a sign of anxiety.

I clench my teeth and grip my pencil tightly.

I've never been anxious before.

The reason for my behavior is quite simple, actually – I've been considering what Natsume said to me last week and I've been trying to give him space ever since. Now I find myself doing these tiniest bothersome things and my mind randomly straddling to him. In the span of a minute, a thousand thoughts would be going through my head like _what is he's doing now_ and _it's been four hours since I last seen him_ and _what if he got into trouble while I'm not there and something happened to him_?

Call me paranoid if you will, but better safe than sorry.

My train of thought is interrupted as I feel something hard come in contact with my foot. I blink and take notice of my surroundings. On either side of me are walls of white and in front was a sturdy oak door. Not just anyone's oak door, actually. This sturdy door made of oak is the one that belongs to my dear brother – or his room, anyway.

My first thought is _why am I here?_

My second, more exasperating thought is _so I guess my stalking tendencies haven't dispersed after all…_

I'm about to hold up my right hand to knock on the door when I realize the pencil before was still gripped tightly in it. I must have it really bad if I even manage to bring this thing with me here. I roll my eyes and gently tap the door with my left instead.

There is a long pause, but no answer.

I knock again. "Natsume?"

I don't bother knocking the third time, but just turn the knob and go in. Surprisingly, the door is unlocked. His room has a musty morning smell. I see clothes thrown all over the floor and his bed unmade. Figures.

Sighing, I go around the room, picking up all the pieces of clothing and plopping them into the laundry basket in his room, which somehow leads to me cleaning out his whole room. I fold the blankets and fluff the pillow. I dust off the surface of his tables and straighten the books.

"What are you doing?" Natsume's voice comes from the doorway and I'm startled.

I turn and say lamely, "I forgot my pencil?" I quickly snatch it from the table.

He looks irritated but I can tell that he is not mad. In fact, his eyes were soft as if he is grateful to me. But that can't be, because I came into this room without permission and I know how much Natsume despises that.

"Thanks," I think I hear him mutter but can't be sure.

His word takes me off guard. Natsume has never thanked me in his life. Ever. I stand there like a dummy, not sure what to do.

"Uh, yea…"

I smile briefly and make an attempt to past him when he suddenly asks, "hey, why do I have red eyes when mother and father had violet ones?"

I blink at him and fake innocence. "What are you talking about Natsume? Our mother had red eyes, like you."

He shrugs and something falls off of his shoulder. I see a Sakura petal falling gently to the floor. That's enough evidence to tell me where he has been. I've probably been aware of it all this time, anyway. I can tell by the way that he stares out the window how obsessed he is with her.

"Natsume," I can't help but say, "She's a nymph. She can't leave that place."

I expect him to snap back at me, to tell me that I am wrong, but he doesn't. His eyes just cloud and he turns away.

"Yea, I know," he murmurs, "I know…"

I literally feel his pain in my chest.

* * *

I wake up to something tapping on the window. Hand to my aching head, it takes me about five seconds to digest everything that happened. After I came back from Natsume's room, I tried to think straight, but find myself failing horribly. Finally, realizing that I wasn't getting much of anything done, I decided to take a quick nap.

Which brings us to this question: why are there pigeons tapping on my window? Vision clearing and allowing me a better view, I see a red ribbon and a note tied to the left leg. I walk to the door and slide it up, letting the pigeon in.

Bad idea.

It immediately comes in my room, flapping its wings. I nearly let out a screech. I'm scared of when birds flap their wings. Later, I would realize that the bird is actually flying to me, and would land on the chair handle that is right in front of me, but at the time it seems like it's charging right at me. I panic and scream the first thing on my mind. Next thing I know, the bird is out cold in front of me.

I freeze in anticipation that it will get up any moment and scratch out my eyes with its talons. That didn't happen, so I walk cautiously over to the animal and untie the red string, opening the note.

_Um, hey. _

_Just wanted to apologize for the other day. Didn't really mean it and I'm sorry. Come to think of it, you're probably not the type to sexually harass someone anyway. So… how to say this? You wanna meet me down at the bakery today at seven for a nice chat and a slice of cake?_

_-Ruka_

_P.S. Um, yea… Anna sorta made me do this. _

Seven huh? I have a class at seven.

I fold the note and poke the bird that's lying inanimately on the ground. Then again, I should probably cancel. It's the least I can do for killing his pigeon.

* * *

I arrive at the Umenomiya bakery in my giraffe scooter wearing a skinny jeans and a white sweater over a black T-shirt. Quite plain, actually, but it may as well be because I figure there's no use in dressing up because this isn't even a date. I see him giving me a shy wave and roll my eyes. I open the door and proceed to the chair across from him.

"Hey," he greets me.

"Hi," I deadpan.

He fiddles his hands. "Well, first of all, I'd actually like to issue a proper apology. We really parted on bad terms and it bothers me. So here goes… I'm really sorry for accusing you of sexual assault and somehow being in possession of your tracker. I'm not a thief, I swear. Secondly, would you like anything to eat? Cake perhaps? You should really try the mango cheesecake; it's Anna's specialty."

"No thank you," I refused politely, "I'm not a fan of mangoes… or cake for that matter."

He sighs. "You won't ever cut me a break, do you?"

"Probably not."

"So," he says as he sets his chin in his left hand, "What kind of food do you enjoy anyway?"

I shrug. "Crab roe."

I see his eyes widen in horror. "How can you possibly like that?" he chokes out. "Do you have any idea how many crabs are being killed and eaten every year?! It's horrifying!"

"It's nature."

"No it's not," he snaps bitterly. "I'll tell you what it is. It's putting nature into imbalance. Do you realize the amount of food that humans consume each year? Even more so, do you realize the damage that we cause to animals' habitats? Our kind takes away their food and we destroy their homes. It's atrocious."

"I think you're missing a point, here, Ruka. I never exactly said I was human, did I?"

"You're not?"

"I'm a sorceress. A great one to be exact."

His eyes widen in shock, but soon return to their original state. "Really now? First time I've met one. Nifty. Well I'm human but I've gone through a fairy blessing when I was born. I can communicate with animals."

"I figured."

"So…" He grins. "You say you're a sorceress, and a great one at that. How great are you exactly anyway?"

I contemplate to answer or not to answer. Typically I don't let others get near me. I don't like it when strangers know things about me. It feels like they can take advantage of me and it makes me vulnerable. However, he has a trustworthy air about him, so despite my careful fronting, I decide to spill. "Let's just say there's no law, formula, or level of magic that I haven't explored. I was able to accomplish at ten what most sorcerers attempt their whole life."

"And that would be?"

I sigh. Here goes… "Typically, apprentices learn that there are three levels in magic: beginner, novice and expert. There are, in fact, actually four levels. The fourth – which deems one as a master of magic – is reserved for those who have succeeded in the most dangerous and advanced spell of all – to create a living being. If one can make a being, a living, breathing being with a purpose – if one can make that from scratch using magic, then one is truly a master of magic."

"And you have attempted that at the age of ten."

I crack a smile and correct him, "Attempted and succeeded."

"Master of Magic," he utters the title with respect and whistles. "Well then, Miss…" He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Hotaru Imai."

"Well then, Miss Hotaru Imai, respectable sorceress and Master of Magic, you must set a very good example to your younger siblings."

"Not really," I state bluntly before I can stop myself.

The eyebrow goes up again. "You're an only child?"

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and exhale while opening them. I stare him dead in the eyes and make sure that he remembers my reply for the rest of his life.

"No, I had a twin. A brother. He died stillborn."

* * *

I don't mean to think about him during my lesson, but I do. Even now, as I am explaining to my students the dangerous side effects of aging candy, I think about how respectful he was last night and how he didn't press me about the issue of my twin brother, but let it go while still sending me sympathy. I realize that he's not such a bad guy that I made him to be, even if he's a bit wimpy and shy.

I hear the doors slide and my attention, along with the rest of the class's divert to whoever enters.

"Yo, sis. Someone for you at the door. Says he has to see you pronto."

I put my arms on my hips and sigh. "Can't he wait until after I'm done my lesson?"

"I'd go see him if I were you. He seems pretty pissed off."

I look to and fro from my class to Natsume. Sighing in defeat, I instruct them not to touch anything or go anywhere until I get back. Immediately, a galore of whispers break out and I heard the words "master", "mystery guy" and "affair" somewhere in there. Well, I guess I'll just have to work them harder after I come back.

I can't seem to think of anyone who'd be mad at me though, unless it's another one of those crazy psycho anti- sorcerers/sorceresses that show up again, which is why I'm taken by surprise when I see him of all people standing outside my doorway, absolutely furious.

I open my mouth, but he beat me to it.

"You killed him," Ruka states flatly. "You killed my pigeon."

The silence between us is as good as my admittance. I totally forgot about the pigeon. After I left, I just threw the carcass out in the nearest trashcan before it started to smell. He stares at me, right through me. I use to think that I'm unreadable, but I can see now that I was wrong. I feel more guilt and humiliation now than I ever felt in my life.

He lashes out at me, "You killed my pigeon, Imai! My pigeon. You know I feel about animals. You had the whole freakin' evening to figure it out! But you went and killed him anyway, didn't you? He was like my brother. You had a brother, Imai. You know how it feels! We were family, Imai, _family_!" He stops and pants.

I really don't know what to say. I can't even bring myself to open my mouth at all. The shame is too much to take in. Having him look at me as if he's never been more disappointed in me just makes me lose my ability to think coherently.

"I-" I stop, not knowing what to say exactly.

"You what?" he sneers. "The Master of Magic, rendered speechless?"

"I'm trying to conjure up an apology," I hiss. "It was an accident! Your bird charged at me and I'm not exactly a fan of flapping feathers."

"Alright! Alright, it's an accident!" he explodes, arms flying into the air. "So if I go and kill your parents and I say it's an accident then that automatically makes it okay, doesn't it? Because 'it's an accident' suffices as an excuse for everything that happens!"

"That's different," I growl.

His eyes turn murderous. "Different? Why? Just because he's a pigeon, that automatically okays a slaughter? Seriously Imai, you're this close to making me get my beavers and chew down that pretty little tree that your father proposed to your mother under."

I narrow my eyes. "We both know you're too wimpy to do it. You don't have the nerve."

He laughs bitterly. "Stop me if you can."

I roll my eyes and slam my door in his face, eager to get back to the lesson.

* * *

It's not until well after the lesson that I realize just what I did. The conversation from last night flashes back to me alarmingly.

"_Hah, so your dad proposed to your mom under a tree. How clichéd."_

"_Very so. It's a very pretty tree. It still exists actually, right outside my house. The Sakura blossoms that bloom there every year are beautiful."_

I run though the house, down the twisting hallways and out the back door. My heart sunk. I see the girl there, the nymph, crying as a part of her disappears with each chew of the tree. Nastume's furiously clawing at the beavers, trying to tear them away from the tree, but there're just too many of them. As soon as one flies off, another one craws back and takes its place.

I run to the garage at the speed of light and get out my scooter, riding it faster than the speed of light, if possible. I didn't even bother to close my garage or put my helmet on. I illegally cross red lights and weave in and out of traffic until I reach the Umenomiya Bakery, where, sure enough, he's at the counter.

I barge in and run up to him, dismissing his dismay, tugging hard on his sleeve and plead, "you got to go. You got to call off your beavers. Please. I'll beg. I'll pay you. I don't care anymore! You just got to…" My words fail me and my breaths turn into desperate gasps for air.

He seems to get the idea, though, as he immediately follows me out of the store without even calling Anna.

The scooter can barely support the two of us, but it'll have to do. We ride as fast as the scooter allows us with two people. He holds on tight; he has better, because if he falls off the scooter, his life won't be the only one we're losing today. Still, having two people ride a giraffe scooter designed by a ten year old is not an ideal way to travel. It slows us down greatly.

At my house, I jump off and he jumps off after me. I toss the scooter aside and sprint around the house to the Sakura Tree. He barely keeps up with my pace. I hear a crash and a high pitch scream as soon as I arrive there and catch a glimpse of her fading into nothing. We're just a moment too late. I turn around and I realize that he has too.

"What was that?" he asks me hesitantly.

"A nymph lived there." My voice shook. "I – it's all my fault. If only I hadn't been so stupid! If only I'd realized it earlier! It's not like me. How could I make such a huge mistake?"

He is silent the whole time. When I finish, collapsing onto my knees, he states in a dull voice, "you made me kill a nymph."

The funny thing is that even though all this happens, I still haven't had a complete break down. I almost wish I can just lose it and get it over with instead of being my cold, unfeeling self. My brother's girlfriend just died, so why am I not feeling any grief? I only feel guilt.

I have two people that hate me to the core right now. I can't blame them. Still, there's no doubt that at the moment, I hate myself more than both of their hatred put together.

I turn around and see Natsume staring at me, betrayed and broken.

Then I break down.

* * *

I wake up in an unknown place. I say that, but when I get up and see the bunch of rabbit ornaments sitting on a shelf, I immediately realize where I am.

"_So since we've established that you love animals, what's your favourite?"_

_He smiles. "Rabbits."_

They're all placed consecutively, but I notice there's one that's farther away from the others. It's also the smallest. I walk over, and place it in my hand, a smile on my lips. Poor rabbit. It's probably very lonely, like me.

I place my mouth to its ear and whisper, "Can you hear me?"

Holding it away from my ear, I see the rabbit blinking at back at me with its sharp red eyes.

"You don't need to be alone anymore," I say, stroking its fur gently. "It's okay. It'll be all right now. You'll have someone to love you, to care for you. That'll be my gift."

With each stroke of its fur, the rabbit becomes bigger and bigger, until it's the size of a standard rabbit. I hold it in my arms and stroke its ears gently. I feel my way around its fur until my fingers can feel the thump thump of its heart. A pulse. It's alive.

The door opens and Ruka's head pops in. "Imai-" he starts, but breaks off when he sees the rabbit in my arms. "Is that –"

I walk up to him and place it in his arms. "My gift to you. It's the least I can do after what happened."

He looks down at the rabbit and at me again, a new tenderness in his eyes. "You –"

I stride past him. "I have to go see Natsume."

"Okay. I'll come with you."

* * *

I burst into his room calling "Nastume!" Except it's empty. Furthermore, his bed's clean and made and his clothes are nowhere to be found. It's so silent that I can almost hear the dust particles falling to the ground. The room contains no traces of him being there. It's almost scary.

I surpass a shudder and head downstairs, Ruka following close behind me. I speedily walk in the living room where Yuri's watching TV and ask her, "Have you seen Natsume?"

She's started by my voice and quickly switches off the TV. Then she glances from me to Ruka sheepishly for a moment before realizing that I just inquired her.

"Um," she says, "Last time I saw him, he was heading to your lab… I think…"

I quickly spin around and head in the direction of my lab. I walk faster by the minute. I don't know why but I have this sick, nauseous feeling in my stomach. It's like the sixth sense, telling you that something is wrong, that something is definitely off.

I get my hand on the scanner and off at epic speed and rush through the doors.

Sure enough, my lab's in a mess. However, it's not the typical mess of dangerous chemical spills but rather one of ripped photos. They're all over the place – on the floor, the desks, even some in a dried cauldron.

Ruka and I exchange looks. We're just as confused as the other.

I go around and pick up some pieces of the ripped photos. I put them together into one. It's nothing much, really, just a photo of my family. I don't know why anyone would want to rip this up, really. I was about six when this was taken, when my parents were still alive. My mom is smiling on my left and my dad has one arm around her waist and the other's holding mine. A faint smile is on his lips. My expression is identical to my father's. It didn't occur to me until now how much I'm like my father.

But that's not important at the moment. If what Yuri said was indeed correct, then Natsume would be the one that ripped up these photos. What then is his reason? I look at the photos again, unable to decipher anything.

I close my eyes and think. Was Natsume's behavior weird over the last few days? Not really. He was pretty angry after the nymph died, but that wasn't connected to these photos at all. Maybe he was trying to spite me, but he wasn't so dumb to forget that I could just fix them with a snap of my fingers. The only family matter that he brought up over the past few days was that question he asked regarding the colour of the irises of our parents.

My eyes widen in realization. When had Natsume started being suspicious? Can it be that he did some research behind my back? I look at the photos again. Then, snap! It comes to me! It's not what's in the photos, but what's missing. These photos were taken when I was five, before Natsume existed.

I glance around the room, frantic, and narrow my eyes at the back room. It's the only place he could have gone from here without going back out. I run toward it, twisting the knob and slamming it open with full force.

Sprawling limply across the floor, Natsume lies there with his eyes close. I sprint up to him, hands running over his cold body, feeling for his heartbeat and breath. I find neither. A jar half filled with the potion Nonoko made is clenched loosely in his right had. His cheeks are slightly damp from crying. I slumped. He cried over her. He _cried. _He never cries, but he cried for this girl.

I turn around in slow motion, too overwhelmed by the events. Ruka's tranquil eyes meet mine and he holds up a crumbled piece of paper.

"This was in his hand," he states.

I grab it from him and open it so violently I almost rip the whole thing. It's a sheet of paper with two lines written in deep, black ink in Natsume's messy scrawl.

_I never wanted anything as much as I wanted her_.

and

_You _lied_, Imai._

You lied, Imai. That's exactly what you did. You told him he was normal. You told him that he was your twin, not your creation. You told him he was just like everybody else. They were your words, Imai… You lied… just as you've done a million unforgivable things to him.

I feel my knees go numb and my body fall forward. I feel the impact when my body contacts with Ruka's hard chest, except it feels like one hundred times amplified. The strength drains from me. I feel the painful throbbing of my heart that's speeding a hundred times faster than his.

I remember now the second rule to magic – the only complement to life is death.

As my tears dampen his shirt, I can only repeat the three words – my only thought since I entered my lab. "Oh my god. _Oh my god..._"

* * *

"_So who was that you were stalking the other day anyway?"_

"_My brother."_

"_You said your brother died?"_

_I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes. "Even magic couldn't help morons."_

**End.**

* * *

**No inspiration at the moment. I know how my stories are going to turn out, but I just can't bring myself to write them.**

**-IndigoGrapefruit**


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